


The Spitefulness of Wands

by notearchiver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_owned, EWE, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notearchiver/pseuds/notearchiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After nearly dying in the Shrieking Shack, Severus Snape needs a new wand. The means of payment turns out to be a bit unconventional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spitefulness of Wands

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hp_owned's 2013 Summer of Slaves fest.
> 
>  **Title:** The Spitefulness of Wands  
>  **Author:** notearchiver  
>  **Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Severus Snape, Garrick Ollivander pre-slash  
>  **Word Count:** ~1,200  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Contains:** none  
>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

The wards tingled against Garrick Ollivander's skin even as the back door swung open, a man clothed in black slipping into the shadows as the latch clicked behind him. Ollivander didn't have to turn around know a wand was pointed at his back.

"Severus Snape, thirteen inches, ebony, with a Thestral hair core," Ollivander said, absently straightening a row of boxes as he turned around. "But that wand is no more, now is it?"

The man behind him jerkily nodded his head, although the pale wand pointed at Ollivander never wavered.

Ollivander glanced at the wand before turning away again."Twelve inches, cherry, with a unicorn tail core. A fine wand, although the temperament is all wrong for you. It's still quite devoted to the late Edward Tonks." Ollivander wiped a smudge of dirt from his temple and casually took a box from the shelf. He blew the dust from the lid before carefully set it down in its original position, apparently unfazed by the scowl directed at him.

"I'm not here for chatter, Ollivander," Severus snarled, advancing until he was a mere wand's length away from the wandmaker.

"Yes, yes, I thought you might be coming, although I'm afraid you won't find a suitable companion here." Garrick continued to fiddle with the row of boxes, aligning each skewed container until it was once more in its proper position. He snorted, disgruntled at the mess the Death Eaters had left in their wake. "Now, if you would—" He felt the hard tip of a wand press into his neck, and he stopped speaking.

"What? Am I too Dark for you, old man?" The pressure increased, and Ollivander fought to control the tremble in his hands. It would not do to act rashly. This was his store, his domain, and each wand would answer his call if needed.

"Not at all, Severus," Ollivander replied, slowly rotating until he was facing Snape. The wand scraped across the wrinkled skin of his neck with each movement. "But not even Gregorovitch could craft a wand that would choose you."

Snape's eyes darkened and his lips curled back in a silent snarl. "Would you care to enlighten me as to why that is, Garrick?" His tone was smooth, mellifluous even, but the final word was punctuated with a vicious prod.

A box to Ollivander's right trembled—walnut and dragon heartstring, nine inches—but he soothed it was a small caress, acutely aware of the bruise forming where the wand dug into his neck. But the wand wouldn't harm him. Couldn't harm him, really.

"That wand doesn't work for you, does it?" Ollivander calmly placed his hand on the lifeless piece of wood and gently removed it from where it rested. "None of them do. And none of them will." His hand was abruptly encased by another, callused fingers trapping his own, a perversion of a peaceful handshake.

"I have been very patient with you, but time stops for no one, not even the dead. Why, Ollivander?" Severus' hand tightened around Garrick's, and the wand dropped from his fingers just as several boxes clattered to the floor.

Ollivander sighed as if he was a professor having to repeatedly teach a first year how to properly swish and flick. "You have said it yourself." Silence enveloped the shop, even the wands quieting uncannily in their boxes. When it was clear that Severus was not going to answer, Ollivander smiled lightly. "A wand cannot choose a dead wizard."

Severus stumbled backwards, knocking into a shelf. Wands flew out of their boxes, rattling as they fell to the floor.

Ollivander looked at the mess in dismay. He hurried over and began to levitate the wands back into their boxes, only to have them crash to the floor again when Snape grabbed his wrist.

"I'm not dead, Garrick. I'm not," Severus rasped, face desperate under the soft light of sputtering candles.

A wave of fatigue washed over Garrick, and he sat down next to Severus, clasping the other man's wrist with his free hand. "No, lad, you aren't," Ollivander assured Severus, "but you cheated Death, and you cheated her through potions." He tightened his grip when Snape fought to pull away. "Wands, the silly creatures that they are, don't care much for potions because you bypass their use." Snape looked at his quizzically. "Think. Your magic flows into the ingredients, flows through the stirring rod and the flame when you make a potion. You don't use a wand to channel your magic, and the wand knows that. Like a jilted lover, a wand is spiteful, and it won't recognize a man saved exclusively by potions."

Garrick released his grip, and Severus slumped against the shelf. He fiddled with a wand that had fallen in his lap.

"That's ridiculous," Severus said at last.

"Perhaps," Garrick replied, "but although magic plays by rules, she has the power to change them. At times it is best if we just sit back and let her have her way."

Snape flicked the wand at the strewn boxes, silently attempting a spell. Nothing so much as moved. "So this is one of those times that I just _sit back_ and never use magic again?"

Flicking his wand, Ollivander levitated the wands into their boxes. "Answer me this, Professor." Severus huffed at the title, but inclined his head in an indication that Garrick should continue. "Do you feel your magic fighting to course through that wand in your hand? Do you feel it flowing through your mind, your veins?"

Severus' expression grew angry. "Of course I do! I am alive, am I not?"

"Yes, yes," Garrick answered, spelling the boxes back onto the shelf. As an afterthought, he added a Sticking Charm to the shelf. You never knew when another accident would occur. "But wizards and witches have been known to lose their magic after a traumatic event."

Severus snorted. "Traumatic event? My whole life has been a traumatic event." He brushed aside a lock of hair with the useless wand, glaring at the wood as if it had personally offended him.

Garrick stood and looked down at the man. "As I was saying, it is possible to lose one's magic. Seeing as you have not, I have a proposal to make."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"We work together to make you a wand that choose you."

"In exchange?" Severus asked warily.

"You bind yourself to me, a contractual agreement, if you wish to think of it like that. Five years of service where you do as I say at all times, no questions asked, whether it be cleaning, cooking, assisting me with your knowledge of magical theory, or anything else," Ollivander said.

"Or sex as is traditional, you mean," Severus said flatly.

Garrick shrugged. "If you wish. I do not intend to take away all your rights, nor be unreasonable."

Severus fingered the wand, appearing to mull over the proposal. "And if I agree, I get a wand and my magic back."

"You already have your magic, Severus," Ollivander reminded him. He extended a hand to Severus, an offer to help him stand, and offer for peace.

Nodding, Severus dropped the wand and reached out to take Garrick's hand. "Very well, I agree."

Ollivander smiled, feeling the whispers of foreign magic flow through his veins at when they clasped hands. "Good. The first thing you can do is organise these wands."

"Yes, sir."

The chime at the front of the shop tinkled.

"If you'll excuse me." Garrick nodded at Severus, who was staring at his hand, before disappearing out of sight. "Ah, Mr Potter, what can I do for you?"


End file.
